Misery Loves Company
by EllaMaeEfron
Summary: Bee Webster is jealous because Harry Potter just broke up with her. Could it be because of another woman? Bee finds incriminating evidence that leads to a certain brownhaired witch that we know and love, and decides to do something about it. HHr, RLL, DG?
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello all my beloved readers! I know I really should update my other stories, but I had this one in my little repertoire, and I really wanted to post _something_. Please don't hate me. But please _do_ tell me how you like this one! Thanks, lovelies!

Ella

oOoOo

Prologue

Beatrice Webster was not normally a very jealous person. But a certain brown-haired witch had recently turned her into a green-eyed monster. Bee had been living happily with Harry Potter, her boyfriend of almost two years, when out of the blue, he ended things with her.

One Month Earlier

Bee had just returned from shopping for an anniversary present to give to Harry. Their two year anniversary since they met each other was next week, so she had wanted to buy him something special. The sight that met her eyes when she walked into their shared apartment made her stop in her tracks. Harry was pacing the floor, scowling, clearly waiting for her return. When he saw her, he stopped pacing and sat down in a chair.

"Bee, we need to talk." The sternness in his voice freaked her out a little, but she was still holding the shopping bags containing Harry's gift.

"Um, 'kay, just one sec," she said, attempting to escape to their bedroom so she could stash the bags in her closet.

"No, Bee. We need to talk now."

"But-"the look he gave her made her stop mid-sentence and sit down on the couch across from his chair.

"I don't like the way you've been treating me lately. I'm not just some sex toy for you to play around with. I want someone who loves me for who I am, not what my name is."

"What does that mean?" Bee asked, playing the dumb blonde, and putting a look on her face that she thought looked innocent. Harry sighed.

"It means that I'm leaving, Bee. I've already arranged where I'm staying. Now I have to clear some things up at work. I just got an owl saying there's an emergency. I'll be right back after that to pack up."

Bee started hyperventilating. She jumped onto her feet. "But, (pant pant) but (pant pant), Harryyyyy!" she whined, "I've been so good to you! I sleep with you every night, and I don't buy too much with your credit card! I even stopped my other relationship when I moved in with you!" The last part was mostly a lie, but Harry didn't need to know that. "I just bought you this, too!" she cried, ripping the new broomstick out of one of the bags sitting next to her and chucking it at him. "And with my own credit card!"

Harry walked over to her and gently pushed her back onto the couch. "Bee-bee, you need to calm down. I just need my space. Maybe in a couple of months, after we've both had time to think over the relationship, we can try it again. In the meanwhile you should take up yoga. You're too uptight."

Bee screamed and stormed off into their bedroom, throwing herself down on their bed and burying her face in her pillow. How could it end? It had been going so well! In fact, this was one of the longest relationships Bee had ever had! Another thought pushed it's way into her mind. What if the reason that Harry wanted to end things so suddenly was because there was another woman? No. That couldn't be it. No one had ever actually cheated on Bee! She was always the cheater, never the cheated. She decided that after Harry left for work she would do a little snooping.

One Hour Later

After Bee heard the pop that meant that Harry had left, she stuck her head out the door to check if he really had gone. Once she made sure that he had, she went over to his desk and rifled through the papers. Being an expert on affairs herself, she knew what to look for.

After an hour of searching, the only thing of interest she found was an old scrapbook of pictures. The front pages contained pictures of a couple, a man who looked exactly like Harry, and a woman with long red hair. Bee wondered whether that man was Harry, but then she remembered him telling her that these people were his parents. The more interesting pictures were in the back. Some were of a young Harry standing with a taller boy with red hair and freckles, some were of the boys and a girl with brown bushy hair, some were of Harry and the girl, but most were just of the girl with bushy hair. As the kids in the pictures got older, the girl's hair got less bushy, and she changed from being a mousy girl with a stuck-up air about her, as she was in the earlier pictures, to a pretty young woman. Bee wondered who this girl was.

She found some of the old letters of Harry's that she had previously deemed as junk. They all seemed to be written by Harry, and never sent. Most had been crumpled into balls. And they were all addressed to a 'Hermione'. Bee smoothed out one letter. It read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know that I've been avoiding you for the past couple of weeks, but that's only because I have something to tell you. So here goes. I love_

but that's where the letter ended. _He loves who?_ she wondered. _I love… who could he love? Maybe he was talking about me. Maybe she likes him, and he wanted to tell her that he likes me! When was this written, anyway? _She noticed the date written in the bottom left corner. It was a few years before Harry had even met Bee. _What if it's supposed to be I love you? _She looked at the dates on the other notes, and the most recent was from three months ago! Bee decided that she needed to find out more about this Hermione person.

Present

After she found the letters, Bee spent every spare moment she could squeeze from her already busy schedule researching this woman. She found out that she lived in London, not too far from her flat, in fact, and she worked at 'a little known hospital right outside the heart of London'. Bee could only assume that she meant St. Mungo's, she being a witch herself, because if Hermione had gone to school with Harry, obviously she had gone to Hogwarts.

Bee was a witch, but she had not gone to Hogwarts because she grew up in the United States. That's why she talked with a 'weird accent', as she overheard Harry's friend Ron say about her. She attended a school in Salem and moved to England when she was twenty. She had met Harry at the Ministry, where she worked as an Auror with him. She had been expecting him to propose to her soon, because she had always thought that they were right for each other. However, what she did not know was that Harry had only really asked her out in the first place because he was trying to get over another bad relationship. And keep his mind off of a certain other witch.

Harry moved temporarily into the flat that Ron Weasley shared with his wife, Luna Lovegood. (Luna kept her maiden name after the marriage.) They hit it off after the war. Ron confessed to having a crush on Luna since the trio had gotten to know her through the DA. Since Harry left, Bee had been spending more time at the Ministry, although she did have to make a conscious effort to avoid Harry, because they worked in the same department. She liked to spend as little time home as possible at home because it reminded her that she had been dumped, possibly for another girl. On the other hand, she couldn't get much research in at the Ministry.

Bee sighed, closing another failed website on her computer. She decided she needed a break from research. All this staring at the computer was making her head throb. She went into the kitchen and grabbed a muggle soda from the fridge. She could never give those up, even if Harry scorned them for being 'so disgustingly bad for you'. She sighed again and closed her eyes, pressing the cold can on her forehead. She kept thinking about Harry as if he were still a part of her life.

Suddenly, Bee got an idea for her research. She ran back to her bedroom and threw herself into her desk chair, which went spinning out of control. She pulled herself up to her laptop and eagerly pounded away at the keyboard, the light from the screen reflected in her eyes.

"Bingo!" she said, pressing the 'Print' button on her computer. She pulled the paper from her printer and read it, still warm:

_Hermione Granger Finds Cure for Life-Threatening Disease_ the headline screamed. The article was from the online _Daily Prophet_, which could only be accessed by witches or wizards. It was about a year old. Bee read on. _Hermione Granger,__26, has found the cure for Spagglemedd, a disease that was, until recently, rapidly spreading throughout England. Ms. Granger, a young healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, discovered that an infusion of dragon's blood, phoenix tears, and unicorn horn cures the disease. Out of 340 cases of Spagglemedd in the past year, 290 have resulted in deaths. The symptoms of Spagglemedd include the patient breaking out in what looks like purple pimples, and an unsightly rash all over the skin. Ms. Granger was not available for an interview. She_ Bee stopped reading, looking up with a grin on her face. She had found her.


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Thank you everybody who read the Prologue! And more thanks to everybody who reviewed (which is not really that many. Please, please review! I want to know what you guys think!) I really need to update my other stories, and I will _try_, really, really try to update them soon.

Luv yas! Ella

P.S. I don't remember if I put this in the Prologue so...

**Disclaimer**: I did not invent the characters. Just Bee. And the plot. Et cetera.

oOoOo

Chapter 1

Harry sighed. Living with Ron and Luna was fine, but he was kind of getting tired of Luna's constant references to animals that don't exist, and Ron always backed her up if Harry said anything about it. Plus, Harry felt like he was intruding on the married couple's lives, but if he ever mentioned feeling guilty about it, Ron waved it away, saying that it was his own idea in the first place. Luna poked her head into the room, saying that dinner was ready, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

When he sat down at the dining room table he looked at all the food laid out on the table.

"Wow, Luna. This looks amazing! But why the feast?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I just wanted to celebrate the last of our peace and quiet," replied Luna in her usual dreamy manner.

"What does that mean? Did you adopt a crumpledinger or something?" asked Ron, looking surprised but amused.

"No. But what's a crumpledinger? Did you discover a new species?" asked excitedly.

"No, dear. I told you I don't discover them, I only appreciate them." Ron said, somewhat moodily.

"Luna, you didn't say what your big news was," interjected Harry. They both blinked around at him like they had forgotten that he was there.

"Oh. Right. I'm pregnant." Luna said extremely casually, like this was a daily topic at the dinner table, spooning mashed potatoes onto her husband's plate.

"Oh, that's nice," said Ron, not really listening.

"Um, Ron? Did you actually hear what Luna said?" Harry said, amused.

"Sure I did."

"I don't think so."

"Well, then, what'd she say?" Ron asked, directing his question at Harry, but it was Luna who answered.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated.

"You're WHAT?!" Ron yelped, leaping out of his chair. Harry laughed. Now this was the reaction he had expected. "You're pre-pregnant? Good lord! I'm gonna be a daddy! I'm gonna be a daddy!" He leapt up and hugged his wife.

"Congratulations, guys! I, uh, I have to use the loo." Harry said, making up an excuse to leave. Ron waved him off, not really paying attention. Harry breathed a sigh of relief once he left the room. Since he had moved in he always felt like he was the third wheel, always intruding in their personal moments. He wanted to give them their space because this was such an intimate moment. After waiting a couple minutes in his room, he decided that it was safe to come out. When he reentered the room, however, they were locked in a full-on lip-lock, Luna sitting in Ron's lap. Harry quickly backed out of the room and closed his eyes momentarily. This could take some getting used to…

oOoOo

Hermione Granger sighed. She briefly put her head down on her desk, resting her eyes momentarily. She was the last one remaining in her office, save for her secretary Ella, and she had also been the first one there in the morning. Ella poked her head in the doorway and saw that Hermione was still working.

"Come on, Hermione. You have to sleep sometime!" The sudden noise startled the ever-working witch.

"I know, Ella, but I'm so close to a breakthrough!"

"Just finish it in the morning, Mione. I never thought I'd see anyone who was _too_ dedicated to their job!" she added, shaking her head and walking away from Hermione's office. "I'm leaving in ten minutes Hermione! You better be finished by then!" she called over he shoulder.

Hermione groaned and started packing up. She hauled herself out into the main corridor. "Okay, Ella. I'm ready."

"Good. Now let's go." They stepped onto the elevator, which took them to the lobby. The women walked to the disapparation stations, Ella waving over her shoulder to the security guard. They said their goodbyes and disapparated.

When Hermione's living room came into view, she gratefully sucked air into her lungs. Even after eleven years of disapparating, she still hated it. Hermione plopped down on the couch and pulled out her cell phone. She and many others in the wizarding community had recently discovered cell phones to be extremely helpful. The screen on hers flashed. Words popped up on the screen saying that she had 17 missed calls. _Seventeen?! Who on earth would call me that many times?_ Hermione wondered. She opened up the menu and chose the option to check her recent calls. Right as the screen with the numbers of missed calls popped up, her phone vibrated and started playing the overly peppy default ringtone, making her jump and almost drop the phone. It was a private caller. She hit 'Accept'.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Ms. Hermione Granger?"

"May I ask who is calling?" The person on the other end had a cheerful American voice. Hermione couldn't help wondering why someone was calling at midnight.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Bee... ugle! Yes, that's it. Bugle."

"_Bugle?_" Hermione's eyebrows flew upwards.

"That's my… nickname! You see, I play the bugle, and… well, anyways, I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Harry Potter?" Harry? Why would Harry be contacting her? They hadn't communicated in years!

"Why would Harry want to contact me?"

"Well, he doesn't. I overheard him talking to a coworker about you."

"Me?"

"Well, I assume you are the only Hermione Granger that Harry knows?"

"I guess. I mean, I haven't really talked to Harry in a couple of years."

"Yes, well I overheard him saying that he used to have a crush on you, but now he can't stand you. He said, 'She's just so damn annoying. And ugly. She has this hideous hair. You would really laugh if you saw her. And she's never even had a boyfriend! I don't know what I ever saw in her.' Or something like that." Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes.

"And why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"I figured you had the right to know. You know, in case you were planning on making a move. Or liked him." Bee tried to keep the excitement out of her voice, but Hermione still picked up on it.

"Do you like Harry, Bugle?" Hermione asked.

"Me? Oh, no, sweetie. Not me. When I heard what he said about you I realized he was a cow."

"Well, Bugle, you can just tell Mr. Harry stinking Potter that he's lucky he doesn't like me anymore, because if he did, he would be in trouble because now I hate him!"

"Sure thing, honey. I will. Now you take care of yourself." And the line went dead. Hermione dropped the phone onto the couch, and she herself collapsed, crying. She didn't even stop to think about why this Bugle person would call her 17 times to tell her this. That night, Hermione Granger cried herself to sleep.

oOoOo

Not too far away, Bee Webster put down her phone and smiled. Her plan was finally going into action.

Bee stayed up all night after her phone conversation with Hermione. She had spent the time writing a letter. And revising. And revising. And revising. And so on. So far she had:

_Dear Harry, _

_I know that you were interested in me, and that we have not talked in a while. I'm just writing to tell you to stop thinking about me. I have moves on, and so should you. Please do not contact me. I hate you. _

_Love__ Sincerely, _

_Hermione_

Bee had tried to copy Hermione's handwriting and style of writing as best she could from letters that she had found on Harry's desk. It seems that for about a year after the final war with Voldemort Harry and Hermione exchanged letters, just casual letters telling the neighborhood gossip and that sort of thing. It wasn't until after that that Harry started writing the love letters.

Bee had even found out what kind of owl Hermione had. She apparated to the owlry in Diagon Alley, which had, after Voldemort was defeated, regained its old charm from before the war. Bee picked out an owl that was almost identical to Hermione's and sent the letter to Harry express owl.

Bee decided that she would stay in Diagon Alley and shop for a little while. She walked down the alley, taking in all the sights, feeling like Harry when he had first found out that he was a wizard. He had told her that story many times. Bee made her way past Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which George had expanded into an international chain once he recovered from Fred's death, and past the store where she had bought Harry his broom only a month ago. It felt like that had been twelve years ago. She eventually reached a new jewelry shop that had just recently opened. She went inside and admired all the wedding rings. She was confident that her plan would work.


End file.
